Do Werewolves Know How To Swim?
by AgentAlexKrycek
Summary: Something FUN for you AWESOME peeps! Got to keep up our reputation of the funniest fan fiction out there... Season Two time-frame, prompted/based on a line from the Big Bang Theory. "Do Werewolves Know How to Swim!" It's late at night on the open road, where our three heroes are on their way back home from their latest big-bad adventure...


Something short & fun for all you awesome peeps! It's been a while since I posted anything NEW. Got to keep up the reputation for the funniest fan fiction out there! 😉 Some naughty language & innuendo, but nothing that should need any warnings; after all, we're ALL adults here. In my world, Stiles & Derek are both adults and only a few years apart. Deal with it! I own nothing, except my biting sense of humor & snark, everything else is MTV and Jeff Davis. If you like it, **PLEASE** Review. I live to hear from you guys. (And, you have NO idea how much hard work goes into these little adventures.) Rated T, Stiles/Derek (Sterek), Scott

Season Two time-frame, prompted/based on a line from "( _ **Episode 13, Season 8**_ ) of the **Big Bang Theory**."

 _ **Do Werewolves Know How to Swim?!**_

It's late at night on the open road, where our three heroes are on their way back home from their latest big-bad adventure. They're packed into Derek's black Camaro. Derek is driving, Scott is shotgun, leaving Stiles with the entire backseat to himself. A fact he's taking full advantage of.

"I hate to go all CSI here, but before I get too comfy back here, does anyone have a black light? I just want to make sure there's nothing weird on these amazingly soft leather seats..." Stiles taunts.

"Nothing's happened back there, Stiles! ...much," Derek quickly snaps, looking like he's having an aneurism. "At least nothing you'd need to be worried about." He adds with a smirk.

"Ewww! When we get home Derek, you're detailing this entire vehicle! Hey, can I ask an important question?" Stiles asks tentatively, sticking his head between the two front seats.

"No. Not gonna happen..." Derek orders.

"Rude! Why not, Sourwolf?! You are supposed to be our trainer in all-things wolfie… Look at the bad example you're setting here," Stiles chastised.

"I'm training Scott," Derek replied. "I have no idea how you came into the picture..."

"Ow, you hurt me to the bone there, Der! We're a package deal remember, double your pleasure, double your fun. Don't deprive me of your vast storehouse of lupine knowledge. Please," he begged so close to Derek's ear that it caused goosebumps to raise all over his ripped muscular arms.

"I really should know better, and I already know I'm really going to regret this..., but okay... What's your urgent question, Stiles?" Derek agreed tentatively.

"Do werewolves know how to swim?" Stiles blurted out.

There was a screech of tires, followed by a loud and noticeable _thump_ , as the sleek sportscar drove over a mailbox or possibly a slow-moving racoon...

"Are you freakin' serious! I knew it was going to be stupid and insulting..." Derek groaned.

"Hey, my Dad says there's no such thing as a stupid question," Stiles retorted.

"...And how long has he lived under the same roof as you?!" Derek quipped.

"Ha ha ha, I'm serious. I've never seen any of you swim. There was the one occasion at the pool with the Kanima, where, if I remember correctly, you sank like a stone. And a certain awesome good samaritan, who will remain totally unnamed here, heroically kept you afloat for hours at great risk to himself, I might add..." Stiles bragged.

"Un-named and modest too," Derek sniped. "I can name a few other things that also float there Kate Winslet. And besides, I'd been poisoned and had no control of my body at the time."

Scott took this time to chime in. "All canines actually, instinctively, know how to swim Stiles. Ever hear of the dog-paddle?"

"Hello there!? Insulting! Werewolves are NOT canines, oh bitten & true one. We are superior to humans in virtually every measurable way." Derek exclaimed.

"Whoa! Conceited much?! Says the alpha predator who can't cross a circle of magic pixie dust without the help of a lowly, stupid, weak human." Also, how do you guys handle the wet dog smell with your super-sniffers?" Stiles went on.

"You have no idea how close you are to being tied to the roof of this car like an old un-wanted futon..." Derek warned.

"Okay, let's just take Scott here as an example..." Stiles continued.

"Oh God, please, let's not." Derek begged, to no avail.

"Scott knew how to swim before he was bitten..." Stiles began.

"Sooo?" Derek said, his patients wearing thinner by the second.

"But, if he hadn't known how, would he just magically have been able to, after getting the bite? And vice versa, if he hadn't known how to swim, would he have stayed aqua-ly-challenged? " Stiles finished.

"Werewolf DNA is NOT predominantly canine, so therefore your ridiculous supposition is completely flawed, insulting and sophomoric," Derek scolded, punctuating each word like a bullet. "You know the mythology Stiles, there are many varied explanations on the origin of the lycan lineage. All the way back to the Roman times of Romulus & Remus, writers often mentioned or implied lycanthropy. Virgil wrote of human beings transforming into wolves. Pliny the Elder relates two tales of lycanthropy. Quoting Euanthe, he mentioned a young man, who after hanging his clothes upon an ash tree and swimming across an enchanted lake, transformed into a wolf-like creature. With the proviso that he attack no innocent human being for a period of nine years, he would be free to swim back across the lake and resume his human form once again. This Arcadian Lake origin myth totally destroys your entire argument, Stiles. You might even say that your argument holds _no water_." Derek shared. "What?! That was good. And why are you both looking at me like that?"

"Sorry," Stiles said, blinking rapidly. "I've just never heard you use so many adult words before..."

"Ha, fucking ha." Derek mocked.

"So, can I assume I could get filthy rich by going into business making pool noodles and floaties for aqua-phobic werewolves?" Stiles mocked.

"You're such an ass," Derek said, giving up.

"Scott, my furry brother from another mother, are you going to let him talk to me that way?" Stiles asked in mock hurt.

"Derek's right. You can be a real pain in the ass, Stiles," Scott threw back.

"Use more lube then," Stiles smirked under his breath.

"What?!" The two wolves in the front seats yelled in unison.

( _THUMP!_ )

"Wow! It's a really BAD freakin' night for raccoons." Stiles observed. "Just saying... Don't be surprised when Rocket shows up on your doorstep and uses his blaster gun on your furry butts in retribution of all his fallen brethren."

"So, do other things that affect dogs also effect werewolves?" Stiles continued. "How about chocolate? Oh, hey, how about almonds? OMG, can I kill off Jackson with an Almond Joy bar?!"

"Shut up Stiles!"

 **POSTSCRIPT:** Thank you guys for reading! Please review. Remember the imaginary racoons that gave their ALL for your entertainment. And, if you enjoyed this, please check out Car Problems, Movie Night ~ The Pack takes in the Lone Ranger, Sterek the Kitten, Lycan's Run; and for you more adventurous types ~ My Heart's in San Francisco and Momma's Boy.


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